


Once Upon A Time

by Caisin



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fairy Tales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-03
Updated: 2012-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-28 19:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caisin/pseuds/Caisin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young girl dreams of saving a princess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon A Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doylefan22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doylefan22/gifts).



> Written for the fuckyeahmerlinfemslash's New Year's gift exchange on tumblr, as a gift for doylefan22.

Long ago, in a kingdom not very far from here, a beautiful princess was stolen from her father’s castle by an evil king and trapped in a tower guarded by the fiercest dragon Albion had ever known. The princess was the pride of her kingdom, kind and beautiful beyond compare, radiant even in her youthfulness, and the people wept at her loss. Knights and peasants alike took up arms and swore to the king that they would return with the princess safe and the dragon’s hell-bound head; all fought valiantly to save their princess but not a one had come home and the courage of men grew dim. It was then, years later when the king had lost all hope of ever seeing his daughter again, that our hero stood up to take the challenge.

+++

Our knight had been young when the princess was stolen from the castle, but, as with so many others, she had often watched adoringly from a distance, doing anything she could to catch merely a glimpse of her. And when the princess disappeared, she was always among the first at the gate to send off the brave men who rode to her rescue.

The girl was hardly one to sit about and do nothing however, and the tales of these great deeds she heard from minstrels and players throughout the city inspired her.

“I'm going to become a knight and rescue the princess,” she announced to her family one morning when she was quite young and girls were still allowed to dream such things, though they rarely spoke of them out loud.

Her mother sighed in exasperation, her father harshly reminded her of promises to the blacksmith and his son across town, and her younger siblings gathered around to see what the fuss was about while her older brother, who had sworn his oath to the knighthood only a month earlier, laughed cruelly at her.

“Little girls can’t become knights.”

“I am not a little girl! I am the same age as you when you became a squire.” She knew what he’d meant, but she would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that what lay between his legs allowed him to rescue a princess while she was forced to marry the blacksmith’s son.

“And what if another should defeat the dragon and rescue this princess of yours?”

“Then I shall call him a hero and swear my blade to the protection of the princess,” she vowed.

“It is a quest of folly! I have seen countless men – the best men – ride out to save her and never return,” her brother said bitterly. “No woman is worth a man’s life.”

“You coward!” she shrieked, the pitch of her voice rising to sound like the child he thought she was and she was filled with a sudden hatred of her body for betraying her.

She made to rush for her brother, but their mother stepped between them before either of her children could do or say anything they would regret later. They stared daggers at each other through her until she took her daughter aside and told her that it would not be discussed again. It was time she grew up and forgot her ridiculous dreams.

+++

It was discussed again however, and the next morning our hero made her way up to the training yard. If the knighthood let her join, her father had told her the night before, she was welcome to it. And they had let her join in the training, for she had worked her strengths of words and wit against them and her arguments had been sound. She couldn’t help thinking though, as she walked away and heard the men laughing at her back, that they were appeasing her just as her parents had. They got her to stop talking now and they would mock her when she ran back home with her tail between her legs.

And for a while she feared they might be proved right. Years of wielding a wooden toy sword against the scrawny boys she played with had not prepared her for the young men who towered above her, whose strength made her feel like a feather being tossed about in a gale.

She would not give them the satisfaction of proving her wrong, but as the days turned into weeks, her spirit began to wane.

She limped off the training field after receiving a particularly bad beating from one of the older squires who had already been taken in by a knight, and headed for the armory to complete her chores for the day. There was a knight inside sharpening his sword when she entered. She’d seen him before, watching the young squires spar, but even earlier than that, she had watched him fight in tournaments when she was a child. Even when he had not won the day, he always made it far, and he had always been her favorite. He was at least a head shorter than most of the knights, and much slighter.

“I’ve been watching you out there,” he said as he set his sword on the table.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to witness my shaming, sire,” she said through gritted teeth. She was in no mood to be talked down on today.

“You misunderstand me. When I watch you in the field, I see great potential in you. With your passion and determination, you can become a wonderful knight. If you have the right teacher.”

She furrowed her brow and nodded for him to continue.

“For most knights, the fight is about brute strength and who has the most power. For people like us, it is an art form. We must take what they perceive as weakness and turn it against them. We must be quick on our feet and as graceful as any dancer. What strength we lack in our arms, we must make up for with the strength of our minds,” he said as he picked up his sword and tapped the flat of it on the top of her head. “In our art, the brain is as powerful a tool as the sword. It has been far too long since I’ve been able to train someone in my art.”

Her sharp eyes gleamed as she looked up at him across the length of the sword.

“You wish to teach me?”

And he did.

Our hero labored endlessly through long days and fell asleep exhausted every night. When she wasn’t training or sparring with the other squires, she was cleaning the knight’s small house or repairing his armor to learn exactly how it protected her and where its weaknesses were. He taught her how to read Ancient Greek, Latin and Persian, and she spent countless hours in the castle library reading treaties on sword fighting and battle tactics. She learned to dance to become more agile and better understand the ways of nobility that were so foreign to her. She learned to paint to make her wrist and fingers more nimble.

The princess’ face was often the subject of her art, how the squire remembered her from before she was captured and how she imagined her now, lonely and sad in her tower. She dreamed of the princess often, both at night and as she went about her chores, and sometimes she wondered if these visions were more than just dreams. The squire saw her going about her day much as she did, teaching herself all the things the knight was teaching her. Everything she needed seemed to materialize in her tower through some sort of magic; everything save her freedom or anyone to keep her company. Sometimes the squire would wake with tears in her eyes from the isolation in her dreams, when, try as she might, she could never reach out and give the princess what she craved.

+++

By the time she was finally strong enough to wear full armor and wield any number of weapons for an extended period of time without her arm tiring, her mind had become its own finely tuned weapon. As she stood in front of her opponent – another squire her age, two heads taller and thrice as broad in the shoulders – she felt none of the fear and doubt she had in those first several weeks. And while his brute strength eventually got the better of her, she left the field with pride.

Next time, it would be him in the dirt looking down the wrong end of her sword.

+++

Through everything, she continued her ritual of watching men ride off for the princess, never to return. But with each year, fewer and fewer men took up the challenge. When she kept her vigil in the temple the night before her knighting, asking the gods for their blessing on her and her quest, it had been over a year since the last man had ridden through the city gates towards the far off tower.

Then, the day after her knighting, our hero walked through the throne room and knelt before her king.

“What brings you before me, my child?” the old man asked fondly.

“I come seeking your blessing on my quest to rescue your daughter, Your Majesty,” she said, her head bowed low over her sword.

He stood then, looking down on her with concern, and he walked the few paces to where she knelt and beckoned for her to rise. She kept her head down, but his gentle hand on her chin raised her eyes to meet his. She saw a deep wariness there, and a hopelessness that had finally settled there after years of steadfast belief, but now it seemed that the knight alone had faith in her quest.

“I cannot let you do this. I cannot waste a life as young as yours on such a futile mission,” he said gently. “So many of my knights have lost their lives to do this for me, when I should have realized years ago that the princess is lost.”

“I am not like the other knights!” she said fiercely. Then she raised her head in defiance and held his gaze firmly, knowing that her next words were treasonous. “I do not believe my quest to be in vain, it is why I joined the knighthood, sire. I will undertake this task with or without your permission.”

Silence hung between them for several moments like a physical entity as they studied each other. The king’s expression was unreadable and the knight feared she would have to make a run for it if he denied her. As she began to wonder if time had simply stopped and they would be stuck in this moment forever, a broad smile broke across the king’s face and his eyes filled with a joy they had been void of for years.

“You have my blessing, young knight. And when you return with my daughter, you may have anything that is within my rights to give you.”

There was only one thing she wanted, but she daren’t ask for it.

+++

“You may be smaller than them, and your strength less,” her mentor had told her one day, not long after taking her in. “But even the largest and strongest of all knights will still be a feather when he faces the dragon. If you are already a feather, you must learn how to use that to your advantage, and then you’ll be one step closer to defeating the dragon than any of the others.”

Those were the words our knight thought on as she came in sight of the ruined fortress. There was certainly magic at work here, as she’d often dreamt, for the tower was crumbling and could not have stood on its own. She could see the dragon flying in circles overhead, chained to the open courtyard below.

She entered the fortress and walked through the long corridor leading to the courtyard cautiously, hearing the clinking of the metal chains striking together and then the rattling of loose stone as the dragon landed. The corridor was dark and completely devoid of anything, living or otherwise. It wasn't until light started to shine in from outside that she tripped and heard an object go scattering across the floor. She looked around in horror at the bones littering the hallway and the scorch marks along the walls. How many men had tried to run away, only to be burnt alive for their cowardice? If any man had ever escaped this place with his life, he'd never come back to the city.

The knight raised her shield as she neared the courtyard and prepared herself for the scene she expected to greet her. She’d heard tales of dragons’ keeps, filled with gold, and the bones and armor of fallen knights. What she saw, once her eyes had adjusted to the blinding sunlight, was none of these things; just walls and floor half blackened with scorch marks, and swords, shields and the occasional helmet surrounding the giant beast. Not a bone or a single piece of armor was to be seen, and it sent a chill through her.

She rushed the dragon, taking several great strides before she felt the force and heat of fire blasting against her shield then she took a knee to protect herself from the blaze. She held her shield firmly, even as the flames licked at the metal and she began to feel the heat of the metal against her hand, searing the leather of her glove. The skin of her fingers began to blister and she bit back a scream, thinking she could not take any more, when the flames suddenly stopped and she threw the shield aside.

Not waiting another moment to wonder why the dragon had given her a moment of respite, the knight made her attack, charging at the creature with her sword aloft. As the dragon’s breath sought to envelop her a second time, she tumbled to the side and bounced back to her feet, trying to ignore the pain where her calf had been momentarily set alight and the leather of her trousers burned away.

The knight charged and then tumbled once, twice more before she stood before the mighty creature. It towered over her, it’s scales all of various sizes from larger than her head to as small as her hands, but she could tell just in that moment that finding a place that her sword could penetrate would take incredible luck. The dragon stomped down on her with its giant claws and she dashed out of the way.

Her mind was working quickly to think of what she could possibly do now she was here when the beast’s tail swung at her. She lifted her blade to deflect the hit and it found its mark, catching between two of the scales, slicing into flesh and sticking there. The dragon let out a roar and the knight cried out as the force of the blow sent her flying backwards into a wall. She slid down it and sat a moment, crumpled up and battered, trying to catch her breath as the dragon stamped around the courtyard enraged, whipping its tail about with the sword still held fast.

She knew this was her moment, that soon enough the thrashing would loosen her sword and she would not get another opportunity, so she picked herself up off the ground, still shaky on her burned legs, and grabbed a shield that lay beside her. The knight charged one last time while the beast was blind with rage, and flung herself at its leg, the point of the shield held out before her. At the last moment, she tilted the shield up and as it collided off a scale, the force of her body behind it slid it under the scale above. With a quick shove upwards, the scale broke off and the steel of the shield penetrated the wound.

The dragon screeched in pain and shook its leg violently, flinging both knight and shield to the ground where the knight curled into a ball, attempting to protect her ears from the impossibly loud screams coming from the wounded creature.

The knight scampered into a corner of the courtyard, clutching her burnt hand uselessly to her chest, the pain surging through her now she had time to think about it. She looked on in terror as the beast continued to thunder around what was a decidedly small area to contain a wounded dragon, its cries echoing in her head, and tried to think of what she would do next.

Escaping would have been easy now, the dragon was paying her no mind, but she was not a coward. She would rescue her princess or die trying.

Her princess.

She looked up then, at the tower she’d all but forgotten as she battled the creature below, and in a small window at its height, she saw the sun shimmering off something golden. The knight smiled to herself, knowing that the princess had been witness to her bravery, and would perhaps tell of her deeds to the one who would eventually defeat the dragon.

“Knight!”

She looked back down quickly, startled not only because the dragon could speak, but also because it spoke with the voice of a woman. In all the tales the knight had heard and read there had never been a story of a female dragon. Her voice was low and harsh, and it shook the knight like a crack of lightning hitting too close for safety.

“You have proven yourself worthy.”

The knight stood up hesitantly, the muscles in her legs burning and her armor weighing her down as it hadn’t in years, and looked curiously at the creature, trying to decide if this was some kind of trick.

“I am glad a murdering beast has deemed me worthy.” She couldn’t help if being cornered and wounded brought out her more sarcastic nature.

Now it was the dragon’s turn to look at curiously at the knight, or she assumed that’s how a curious dragon looked, like a large cat contemplating its dinner. She could have sworn that she’d seen a glint of laughter in the creature’s eyes.

“You are now given a choice.”

The dragon paused as if the knight were simple and struggling to keep up, or for dramatic effect, she wasn’t quite sure. Either way, it was getting bothersome and she nodded for her to continue.

“We may continue this battle, or you may set me free and save your princess.”

Now she was looking at the knight as if urging her to consider long and hard before making her decision.

“How does one free a, I’m assuming magically, chained dragon, then?”

She’d never heard of a smiling dragon before, but she thought that might be what this dragon was doing.

“If you would be so kind as to remove the sword you so bravely ran through my tail, I’ll show you.”

With a smirk, the knight went to retrieve her weapon, now significantly more damaged than the last time she’d held it, and brought it back to the dragon. Realizing what the dragon must be doing, she tossed it blade first into the air above her head.

As the sword spun in the air, the dragon caught it in her fiery breath and the knight could make out its glow even through the flame. After a moment the fire burned out, though it was clear that the dragon was still holding it afloat with her breath, and it came gliding slowly down to the knight’s hand, perfect like the day she'd received it from the forge. As the sword reached her, she was enveloped in the dragon’s breath; it wasn't scorching, as it had been before, but felt like slipping into a hot bath, soothing all the aches from her body and leaving her feeling refreshed.

The knight looked down at her mangled hand and found it healed, only scars remaining of the blisters and gashes that had been causing her such excruciating pain moments before. She flexed her fingers and found that they worked nearly as well as they had when she’d ridden out that morning. She smiled curiously up at the dragon then walked to where she was tethered to the ground, striking the chain with a single, forceful blow. The blade cut through the links smoothly and the knight gasped as the entire chain disappeared before it touched the ground.

She looked up at the dragon as the creature turned to face her. “I’m sorry about your leg.”

“Dragons heal quickly,” she said and once again the knight wondered if dragons could smile as she flew out of the fortress.

The knight watched in awe as the dragon flew into the distance then looked back up to the height of the tower, smiling as she once again saw that gleam of gold.

Sheathing her sword, she walked up to the tower door and shook the handle. It didn’t give, but then she hadn’t figured that it would. Nothing like a key caught her eye as she looked around however, and she wondered if the dragon hadn’t played a trick on her after all. She tried her luck and asked the door, “May I come in?”

Nothing happened, so she tried again, calling up to the tower window this time. “May I come in, _please_?”

And with that, the door disappeared just as the chains had and the knight began her climb up the stairs.

She took the last steps slowly and gasped when she saw the princess for the first time, leaning against the entrance to her room and holding a sword lazily, its point trained on the emerging knight. This was not the princess she remembered, nor the one she'd imagined, save glimpses in dreams she could never quite hold onto when she woke. This princess wasn't scared, but strong and determined, though perhaps still lonely, and the knight realized she found this woman much more intriguing than the one she'd dreamed up so long ago, even if she was a bit disheartened to have a blade so near her chest.

The princess' features were far more piercing than she'd imagined they'd be, though all the more strikingly beautiful. Her deep brown eyes glinted mischievously as she smirked at the knight, who couldn't help a smile in return though the princess couldn't see it, making her acutely aware of the fact that she’d not removed her helmet this entire time.

“Aren’t you a little short for a knight?” the princess asked, clearly unimpressed.

“Huh?” the knight answered stupidly, the sound echoing around her head.

She made a small _oh_ noise before removing her helmet, letting her long black hair tumble out over her armor.

"Oh," the princess parroted, her smirk turning into a small, genuine smile. She finally lowered her blade, sheathing it at her side, though her hand remained on the hilt. "You're not like the other knights."

"So I've often been told, Your Highness," she muttered, bending down on one knee, her head bowed in respect. "I've come to rescue you from your tower."

"Perhaps you're just like them after all," the princess sighed, narrowing her eyes as she beckoned for the knight to stand, not once leaving her place in the threshold. "I do not need rescuing. I merely needed someone to open the door for me."

The knight looked up at her then, bemused.

"There's a magic about this place, as I'm sure even you have noticed," she paused until the knight nodded for her to continue. “I learned how to work the magic years and years ago, forcing it to give me anything I desired. Except I never figured out how to make it open that door.”

“Someone had to open it for you. There was an enchantment there –“

“It’s infuriating!” the princess cut her off with a huff, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed. “Having to wait around for some knight, when all that ever stood between me and freedom was a flimsy piece of enchanted wood. At least you’re not a man.”

The knight blushed at that, and moved to join the princess in the threshold. Her armor made a horrendous noise as it clanged against the stone of the wall, making the princess grimace. When she looked up at the woman before her, her lips quirked up in an apologetic smile, the princess’ face softened.

“It seems odd though, why didn’t the dragon just let the first knight who came for you through?” the knight mused aloud. “She seemed like a kind enough beast, when we weren’t trying our hardest to kill each other.”

"Destiny probably," she said with a wave of her hand. "Dragons always seem to be preoccupied with destiny. It had to be the right person. The one."

“Am I the one, then?” the knight blurted out before she could stop herself, the deep scarlet of her blush reaching the edges of her armor.

The princess smiled sweetly at her and they held each others gaze for a long moment. She looked like she had in the knight’s dreams then, warm and gentle and perfect, and the knight wanted so badly to simply lean over and catch the princess’ parted lips in her own.

“I should get you back to the king,” the knight said, breaking the spell as she turned to walk back down the tower’s winding stair.

“No, wait!” the princess cried out quickly, clasping her fingers around the knight’s wrist to stop her. “I will not exchange one tower for another. I can’t go back to the castle!”

“You haven’t seen the despair in his eyes every day. He believes you are lost to him forever.”

“Then let him think that. He has an heir, and other daughters, let him forget about me. I have no duty to the kingdom but to be a political token to sell to another,” she said resolutely, as if she knew what the knight’s arguments might be. “It doesn’t matter if it is a ruined tower or a gilded castle, my life as a princess will always see me in a cage, and that is not the life I was meant for.

“Come with me,” she implored, moving her hand up to move a strand of hair from the knight’s temple and finding a faded scar there. She brushed her thumb softly along the damaged skin and vaguely wondered how many other small scars marred the knight’s pale skin. They blushed together. “We’ll find somewhere outside my father’s kingdom, where no one knows that you are a knight or I the king’s daughter. We can make a life together.”

The knight was silent, not sure of how to reply. It would be so easy to break all of the oaths she had taken merely days before.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have suggested it,” she said as the silence dragged on, turning back to her room. “You must have family and friends who await your return and I’m sure my father has promised you gold and the gods only know what else.”

It was the knight’s turn to reach out this time, drawing courage from all her childish dreams, and she latched onto the princess’ hand with her scarred one. The princess looked down at their clasped hands, until the knight let go and pulled back as if the burn might have transferred its mark onto the princess’ skin if they were in contact too long, and then looked into the knight’s bright eyes, her face pinched with worry.

“I didn’t do this for the hero’s welcome back at home or any amount of wealth or land your father might give me. I did it for you.”

“You’ll come with me then?” the princess asked, warm eyes pleading, not quite believing that the knight would give up everything. “Even if it means being exiled forever from your home?”

The knight thought of telling the princess that she was her home, but felt that was sure to get her laughed at, so she merely nodded and kissed the princess softly on the corner of her mouth. The princess smiled at her gently, looking suddenly younger and shy.

She looked down at the knight's scarred hand then, and brought it up to her face to study it closely, cradling it in her soft hands. She pressed her lips to the palm, kissing lovingly along one of the long scars before gently folding her fingers down and kissing each of her knuckles.

"Thank you, for everything you've done for me," the princess said, truly heartfelt, as she lowered their hands, keeping the knight's clutched in her own. She kissed her knight then, leaning in slowly and letting her lips linger gently on the other woman's for a few long moments before bringing a hand up to thread her fingers in the dark hair and bringing them closer together. The knight yielded to her touch and let her mouth fall open under the princess' eagerness. She wrapped her arms around the princess' middle, letting the kiss deepen as they clutched at each other.

The princess pulled back a little ways, eyes filled with happiness and affection as she smiled at her knight.

"Shall we leave this place?" her knight asked.

"Yes, I think we shall," the princess replied, and the knight grasped her hand and they rushed down the stairs as quickly as they could.

They ran through the courtyard, stumbled their way through the long, black corridor and finally out into the field where the knight's horse stood in wait for them. The princess spun around in joy, laughing as she took her first deep breath of fresh air in several years.

“And did they live happily ever after?”

“I believe they did,” Morgana replied with a smile, looking up at Morgause from where she lay in the middle of the bed, her hand running gently over the round stomach she’d been telling the story to. She pressed her lips against the covered belly, kissing the precious life within with reverence and awe. She would always be in awe of the life they had created. “They’ll roam the country, saving princes and keeping evil kings from chaining down poor dragons who simply want to get on with their lives, hoarding gold and asking riddles of those seeking it.”

Morgause giggled, a sound Morgana did not think she'd ever hear coming from her sister, it made her body tingle pleasantly. And then Morgana gasped as she felt a kick against her hand, her eyes going large with wonder.

"I think she likes my stories!"

“She's probably sword fighting in there! I thought you wanted to raise a High Priestess. She’ll grow up wanting to be a knight if you keep telling her these tales,” Morgause teased, though she looked down at Morgana with nothing but love in her eyes.

“She can be whatever she wants to be,” Morgana said as she laid her head gently on her lover’s breast and wrapped herself around her. She let her eyes flutter closed and hummed contently as Morgause ran her fingers languidly through her raven hair. “She'll be able to do everything, just like her mama."

As content as she'd been, laying with her sister draped over her, Morgause felt the need to draw Morgana up to her, to kiss her deeply and share all the joy she was feeling in that moment. And then Morgana was looking down on her in a way that made her heart ache with happiness, her eyes showing Morgause all the things that words couldn't manage and her hand never leaving the firm roundness of her lover's belly.

“Can I be the knight next time?”

“Perhaps,” Morgana said with a grin as she kissed her sister gently on the lips. “But I’ve been the princess all my life. I’ve enjoyed getting to do all the rescuing for once.”


End file.
